The Proposal
by flowerpicture
Summary: Some ridiculous Stendan fluff. Title says it all really.
1. Chapter 1

The proposal wasn't romantic. It wasn't a grand gesture, it wasn't public, and it wasn't particularly heartfelt.

It still took Ste's breath away.

It happened in the rain, in the middle of an argument, in the courtyard of Chez Chez on a hungover Sunday morning. They'd had a late one, and now they were having an early one, and Ste wasn't happy.

Brendan hadn't come home last night. After spending the evening drinking together in the club, things had gone sour when Ste noticed some hot young twink of a thing eyeing up Brendan. It wasn't that Ste was the jealous sort, not really, but Brendan was _enjoying _it. Preening under the attention of the twink, meeting his eye and smirking, right in front of Ste, as if he were on the pull and Ste was his wingman.

Ste descended into a sulk, which amused Brendan, and things went from bad to worse when the twink plucked up the courage to come over and offer to buy Brendan a drink. In his own fucking club.

And Brendan, the dick, asked for a whiskey. Asked for it with a fucking smile.

Ste kicked off instantly. Told the twink to fuck off and then told Brendan to fuck off and lost his shit when Brendan laughed and tried to pull him closer.

"I'm only messing with yeh head, Steven," Brendan said, highly amused, eyes twinkling. "You're hot as fuck when you're jealous."

But Ste was having none of it, too drunk and too angry and too full of burning jealousy to cope with Brendan's idea of a joke. He shoved Brendan away and staggered home and woke up this morning to find Brendan hadn't joined him.

His bad mood hadn't abated any and, head hammering and stomach churning, he stormed back over to the club to have it out with him. He found Brendan in the courtyard stacking up crates of mixers, greeting Ste with a distracted, "Morning',"casual as you fucking like.

"Morning?" echoed Ste, swiping a hand through his rain-wet hair. "Morning? You've got some nerve, Brendan Brady."

"Hmm," said Brendan, entirely unconcerned in the face of Ste's aggression. "It's been said."

Ste pushed for a row then, challenged Brendan on not coming home and getting pissed at the club and that fucking _twink_ who he was probably shagging all night, wasn't he, because he clearly fucking wanted it.

"Jesus," Brendan said on a deep sigh, straightening and giving Ste his full attention for the first time. "Are you still drunk? As if I'd cheat on you, Steven."

Ste knew that, of course, but it wasn't the point. He was too wound up to be rational.

"We're meant to be in a relationship. We live together, Brendan, and you don't get to just not come home whenever you feel like it, especially after feeling up some random guy right in front of me!"

Brendan raised an eyebrow. "Tell me when exactly I was feeling him up."

"You might as well have been!"

"It's like you don't even know me," Brendan muttered, lifting another crate onto the stack. Ste tried not to get distracted by the rippling muscles. "We're practically married, Steven. You know I take that kind of thing seriously."

"What kind of thing?"

"Marriage," Brendan said. "You make that commitment, you stick to it. I've got no interest in random bar skanks."

"'Cos you stuck to that commitment with your Eileen, didn't you?" It was a low blow, Ste knew, but he couldn't help it, not with his ears ringing with the word _marriage_.

"I did my best with Eileen, you know that," Brendan said darkly, and Ste felt instantly guilty for bringing it up. "And it's different now." He shrugged his shoulders a little, showing a hint of vulnerability. "I know who I am now and I know who I'm with, and I know that what I've got is something I don't want to fuck up."

That kind of took the wind out of Ste's sails, made him glow a little on the inside. Not that he was going to let Brendan off the hook yet. "Then why didn't you come home, eh? You knew you'd wound me up and you just left me at home thinking all sorts!"

Brendan eyed him. "You honestly thought I was cheating on you with that kid?"

"Well…no," Ste conceded.

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem? The problem, Brendan? After all this time you still think it's okay to vanish for the night and not call and not tell anyone where you are, leaving me to think you've gone back to self-destruct mode, getting up to all kinds of crazy shit in the name of God or Santa Claus or whoever the fuck is pressing your buttons this week—"

"I just stayed at the club," Brendan interrupted calmly, "and I think you should marry me."

Ste came to a screeching halt, breath whooshing out of his chest, pulse thundering in his ears. "What?"

"I said," Brendan murmured, taking a step closer, "I think you should marry me." He looked nervous.

"But…" Ste couldn't make a single word enter his head, let alone any kind of eloquent response. "Why?"

"You're already a nagging wife," Brendan said with a smirk that looked far less confident than usual. "Might as well make it official."

Brendan's words served to clear Ste's head, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh that's dead romantic, that is. I'm swept off my feet here."

"What do you want from me?" Brendan asked. "I'm not getting down on one knee. It's raining and these trousers are Armani."

"I don't want you on one knee," Ste said, although he kind of liked that idea a little bit. "But if you're ever gonna propose, Brendan, I want you to bloody mean it!"

"I do mean it," Brendan said instantly, and he sounded so genuine that a lump started to form in Ste's throat. Brendan lowered his voice and took another step closer, until he was within touching distance. "I want to marry you, Steven."

Ste attempted to swallow the lump away, felt the corners of his eyes begin to prickle. "I'm not gonna say yes to a spur-of-the-moment proposal that you'll probably regret later."

"Who said it was spur-of-the-moment?" Brendan said, and Ste watched, frozen in breathless anticipation, as Brendan reached inside his jacket. "I've had this in my pocket for a month." He had a small black box in his hand. A ring box.

A fucking ring box.

"Surprised you never found it," Brendan continued, "considering how often you rummage through my clothes for money."

"Just a few quid for the shop sometimes," Ste muttered vaguely, unable to take his eyes off the box in Brendan's hand. He nodded at it. "There's a ring in that."

"I know there is," Brendan said. "I can open it if you like."

Ste licked his lips, met Brendan's eyes for a brief moment. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's have a look."

Brendan laid the box flat in his upturned palm and opened it to reveal a simple, thin, expensive-looking band.

Ste swallowed. "Is it engraved?"

"No." Brendan sounded quiet now, his words soft. "Thought we'd save that for the wedding rings."

"Right." Ste nodded.

After a moment's pause, during which Ste stared at the ring, Brendan said, "So…? I'm getting wet here."

"You were getting wet anyway."

"Yes, but—"

"Are you really asking me to marry you?" Ste asked, looking up into Brendan's eyes.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ste licked his lips again. "Okay."

"Okay?" Brendan repeated, eyes developing a tell-tale shine that made Ste's heart race even faster.

"Okay." Ste's face split into a grin, chest flooding with a giddy sort of happiness that made him laugh shyly.

Brendan huffed a laugh in response, although it sounded more like relief. "Keeping me hanging…" he muttered, taking the ring out of the box, slipping the box back into his inside pocket, and reaching for Ste's hand. "Had me worried there."

"Like to keep you on your toes," Ste said, still grinning.

"Hmm," Brendan grumbled, but he was smiling and his eyes were shining and then he was pushing the ring onto Ste's finger and suddenly they were _engaged._

Ste held his hand up to see how the ring looked on him. "'Ere, don't think we're having one of those pointless engagements that just go on and on and never end up in a wedding."

"Steven," Brendan said, hooking his fingers into the front of Ste's jacket and tugging him closer. "I'll marry you tomorrow."

"Nah." Ste wrinkled his nose. "Can't do tomorrow. Got the morning shift at the deli, ain't I?"

"Right, 'course," Brendan said, leaning in and cupping Ste's cheek in his hand. "The next day maybe."

"Maybe," Ste said against Brendan's mouth, laughing into the kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Some more fluff, because reasons. Brendan & Ste ironing out the finer points of their upcoming marriage…**

::: :::

"Steven Brady," Brendan said, most of his attention stuck on spooning just the right amount of sugar into his mug of coffee.

Ste looked up from the towels he was folding and wrinkled his brow. "Eh? I don't think so. Brendan Hay."

Brendan snorted. "Not in this lifetime."

"Oh right." Ste dumped the towels in the basket and rounded on Brendan, hands on hips, while Brendan leaned back against the kitchen counter and blew the steam off his coffee, unconcerned. "My name not good enough for you, is that it?"

"I didn't say that. But Brendan Brady is who I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Brendan said, taking a sip of his coffee, "that the name Brendan Brady means something in certain circles. I have a reputation."

"Oh get over yourself," Ste scoffed. He shoved Brendan aside to flip the kettle back on, because obviously Brendan hadn't offered him one, the dick. "You're getting too old to play gangster now, Brendan. It's embarrassing."

Brendan raised an eyebrow at him. "Ouch." He watched Ste make his own drink, quietly blowing steam from his coffee and sipping, before saying, contemplatively, "Steven Hay-Brady."

"Hay-Brady? Sounds like a greeting, that."

"What?"

"A greeting," said Ste, leaning back against the counter beside Brendan with his own hot coffee in his hands. "Like 'Hey, Brady,' you know?"

Brendan stared at him. "Don't be an idiot all your life, Steven."

"No, right, it's like that Aloe Vera thing, innit?" Brendan's frown said he wasn't following. "You know—'Allo, Vera!" He laughed.

Brendan wasn't impressed. "I'm marrying an idiot."

"Shut up," said Ste, crossing his feet at the ankles.

"Brady-Hay then," Brendan said. "Steven Brady-Hay. That sounds all right."

Ste thought about it. Turned the name over in his head a few times. _Steven Brady-Hay_. Made his tummy feel warm. "Brendan Brady-Hay," he countered.

"Yeah," Brendan said after a moment. "All right." He paused, then the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "The Brady-Hays."

"Really?" Ste said, a grin forming. Then he frowned. "'Ere, I mean it though. You can carry on thinking of yourself as Brendan Brady as much as you like, but on paper you're Brendan Brady-Hay, and to the law and to friends and family and to everyone you ever meet, ever. Right?"

"I'll just sky-write it, will I?"

"Yeah," said Ste. "Yeah, do that. Right over the village. Maybe put up a billboard as well."

Brendan snorted. "Possessive bastard."

Ste elbowed him in the side. "Can't blame me for wanting everyone to know you're mine forever now, can ya?"

"Everyone already knows, Steven," Brendan said with a smirk.

Ste thought about that and then smiled into his coffee. "The Brady-Hays," he said, then let out an accidental giggle.

Brendan rolled his eyes fondly. "C'mere," he said, and pulled Ste in for a kiss.

::: :::

Jim had them seated at a table in the club, briefcase open and a giant stack of documents in his hand, which he began laying out on the table between them. "The pre-approved mortgage from the bank," he began, "the joint bank account agreements for your personal account, Mr Hay, your three British accounts, Mr Brady, and your two offshores—"

"You've got offshore bank accounts?"

"The business accounts, savings accounts," Jim continued, as if Ste hadn't spoken. "The co-ownership contracts for the club, the deli, that hideous block of flats—"

"Oi!" said Ste.

"Your Irish property, Mr Brady. The pension plan, health insurance, life insurance… And then the little things like additional card holder agreements for the Visa, Mastercard—"

"Oh my god," interrupted Ste, staring at the sheer volume of documents spread out across the table. He swallowed audibly.

Jim fell quiet and still, and Ste was aware of Brendan's eyes on him.

"You don't have to do this, Steven," Brendan said softly. "There's no pressure."

Ste gave a dry laugh. "Trying to get out of marrying me already, eh?"

"No, we're still getting married," Brendan said, as if he would hear no argument on that front. "But we can be together and not share our lives like this. We can just carry on like we are if you're worried about me having a hand in your—"

"It's not my deli I'm worried about," Ste said. He waved his hand over the documents. "You basically own half of that anyway after we bought out Doug. But this is all your stuff, Brendan. Ninety-nine percent of all this is yours, and you're just signing it over to me just like that…" He shook his head. "Joint ownership of everything you have. Access to all your money and insurance and…"

"What's mine is yours," Brendan said with a wink. "Marriage is a lifelong partnership." He paused. "Well, at least this time it is," he amended, then leant forward in his seat, getting closer to Ste across the table, and dropped his voice. "Look, it's different for two men getting married. If I were marrying a woman and something happened to me, there would be no question of my wife having a claim to everything. But when it's two men, things could be difficult for you, and I don't want that to happen. I want to make sure you'll always be taken care of."

"Then write a will," Ste said weakly.

"Wills can be contested."

Ste stared at Brendan, at the documents, then back at Brendan. When he spoke, he did so in an imploring whisper. "I just don't want you to think I'm marrying you for all of this."

"I know you're not," Brendan said, his tone soothing. "I just want you to be an equal in every way. This is your right, Steven."

"Look, let's call it a day here," Jim said, snapping his briefcase shut. "Take all this with you and think about it. We'll schedule another meeting for—when's the wedding?"

"Five weeks," Ste said, distracted.

"Plenty of time then. Let's meet back here in a fortnight, yes? Mr Brady, I'll call you."

After Jim left, Ste drew a deep breath and said, "So in addition to the deli, if I sign these papers I'll become co-owner of a club, a block of flats, an apartment in Ireland, the house we haven't yet bought, half a dozen bank accounts, insurance plans…"

"That's about the gist of it, yeah."

"It's like being handed an empire overnight."

Brendan laughed. "I wouldn't go that far, Steven. I'm hardly Donald Trump. This is just a village nightclub, after all."

"But still… Exactly how much money do you have?"

"Sign those papers and you'll find out," Brendan said with a smile.

"Enough for, say, another deli?" Ste said, grinning coyly. "Maybe on the high street?"

Brendan's eyes glinted with mirth. "And you say you're not marrying me for my money."

"Shut up and hand me that pen."

Brendan laughed, gave Ste the pen, and went looking for a bottle of champagne.

::: ::: :::

Ste crawled up Brendan's body, did his best minxy expression and bedroom eyes, straddled Brendan's thighs and sat up straight, huffing, when Brendan still didn't look up from his book.

"I said no, Steven."

"Oh come on!" Ste wheedled. "Just one clue? Please?" He shifted forward a little, made sure his arse skimmed over Brendan's crotch—which, despite outward appearances, was hardening under the attention. "Just one little hint, Brendan, come on."

Brendan turned a page and readjusted his shoulders on the pillows behind him. "Nope."

Ste let out a sigh of exasperation and tore the book out of Brendan's hands.

"Hey!" Brendan objected as Ste dropped the book on the floor by the bed. "I was reading that."

Ste rolled his eyes. "You'll live." He pushed forward a few extra inches and rested his hands on Brendan's shoulders, thumbs rubbing the base of his neck. "Please. You know I don't like surprises."

"Tough," said Brendan. His hands found Ste's hips and skated up his bare sides. "This was the deal: you get to arrange the ceremony; I got the honeymoon. You'll have to just wait and see."

"But—"

"No buts. Have some patience." His fingers tickled over Ste's ribs. "I promise it'll be worth it…"

Ste pouted. "It better be somewhere hot."

"I'll give you something hot," Brendan growled, rolling his hips against Ste's arse, making Ste laugh at his corniness. "C'mon, I don't have my book anymore. I need other entertainment."

"Yeah? Like what?" Ste grinned and gave a little shimmy. "Want me to give ya a dance?"

"No," Brendan said, curling a hand back and over Ste's arse cheek. "Just sit on my dick, there's a good lad."

Ste tutted. "_Good lad_," he muttered irritably while rising up enough to shove down Brendan's boxers. "Grab the lube then."

::: :::

"Jesus Christ, Steven, the wedding's in two weeks and we still haven't put in an offer on any of these." He dropped the stack of estate agent listings on the table beside the plate of toast and slumped into the seat opposite Ste.

"What's your rush?" Ste asked around his mouthful of cornflakes. "They ain't going nowhere."

"You don't know that. I just…" He sighed and rubbed his forehead, messing up his bedhair even more. "I want a proper marital home, not this—"

"Not this dump?" Ste asked, raising an eyebrow.

Brendan stared at him for a moment. "Yeah, all right. I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. This place is a hellhole and I don't want to live in it any longer than I have to, especially not when we're married."

"No one made you live here," Ste said with a scowl.

"No, but this is where you are, so this is where I came. I would've lived anywhere just to…" He blinked and broke eye contact, reached for a slice of toast. "But now we're setting up our future, and this place won't work for us. I want a house, with spare rooms for the kids, furniture that matches, and an office to shut work away. And we could have that by now if you'd grow some balls."

"My balls are fine, thanks."

"Then pick some to view this week," he said, shoving the listings across the table at Ste. "We're putting an offer in before the wedding or so help me god—"

"You'll growl at me some more?" Ste rolled his eyes. "All right, princess, keep your knickers on. I'll take these to work with me and have a look. Come by after lunch."

Brendan let out a breath. "Right. Good." A moment later, he flung the crust of his toast at Ste's head. "And don't call me princess again."

::: :::

Ste stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching Brendan pack his essentials into a bag, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat and his breath coming shallower than he'd like to admit.

"Got everything?" Ste asked as Brendan zipped up the bag. "Cufflinks, aftershave…?"

"I'm all set." He gave Ste a smile as he flung the bag over his shoulder and unhooked the garment bag from the wardrobe door. "I guess this is it," he said, coming to a stop before Ste.

"Guess it is." Ste stared at him, willing him to say something, and then laughed. "Can't believe this time tomorrow…"

"I know," Brendan said softly. He smiled again, one of his secret ones just for Ste. "The Brady-Hays."

"You best not stand me up," Ste said, giving Brendan a playful poke in the tummy.

"I think that's more my concern than yours."

Ste stepped closer and placed his hands on Brendan's shoulders, looked up into his face. "I'll be there, right on time."

"Good." Brendan's eyes were warm. "You know I hate waiting."

"C'mon, we both know you'd wait all day for me."

"But I wouldn't be happy about it," Brendan conceded, and they were just smiling at each other now, sharing a quiet moment. Until Brendan said, "Think we've got time for a quickie?"

Ste laughed, gave Brendan's shoulders a squeeze. "Think that's bad luck," he said. "Besides, Cheryl's waiting for ya. And your Declan will be there stressing about his best man speech."

"What time's Tony getting here?"

"'Bout half an hour," Ste said, looking over Brendan's shoulder at the clock on the wall. "So you better jog on, Brady. I've got me a wedding to prepare for."

Brendan looked at him for a long moment, searching his eyes. Ste didn't know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, it made him smile again and lean forward for a kiss.

Ste kept it chaste and sweet, lips clinging and a small swipe of his tongue against Brendan's. The next time they'd be doing this, it would be as newlyweds, in front of everyone they knew. The thought sent a thrill up his spine and he broke the kiss, pulled Brendan into a hug. "Go on," he murmured into Brendan's ear. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Brendan echoed, pulling back enough to give Ste a final kiss. Then he left, Ste watching him go with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Ste drew in a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror. He smoothed his cravat, ran his fingers down his lapel. His hands were shaking.

"You look amazing," Amy said quietly, stood beside him in her floor-length pale blue dress. She brushed her hand over his shoulder, removing invisible lint. "Very handsome."

He gave himself a wobbly grin and turned away from the mirror to look at Amy. She looked stunning, like elegant royalty in this fancy hotel suite. Sounds of the kids playing in the next room filtered through the wall and soft music was coming from somewhere, down the corridor perhaps.

"So you think I'll do?" he asked her, his voice unsteady.

She offered him a knowing smile. "He's gonna be speechless, Ste."

"I hope not," he said with a laugh. "I need him to say the 'I do' bit at least. Kind of the whole point."

She kept her smile, but her eyes lost a little of their warmth. "I still can't believe you're doing this."

"Amy—"

"No, just—" She grabbed his hand and held it up to her chest. "Just promise me you know what you're doing, that you've got it all figured out."

"I promise you." He used his spare hand to brush a curl away from her face. "You might not believe it, but this is one of my better decisions."

_Unlike marrying Doug _went unspoken.

This was the one. This was how it should have been from the start.

She searched his eyes for a moment and then nodded. "Then I'm happy for you," she said, before patting his cheek then leaning up to kiss it. "And for Brendan."

"Thanks."

She left him for a minute then to round up the kids and make sure they hadn't dirtied their outfits. Lucas, in his mini tuxedo, was the cutest thing Ste had ever seen, and Leah looked beautiful and beaming in her blue dress, matching with Mummy. She carried a small bouquet and hugged him around the middle when she entered the room.

"You guys ready?" he asked, their response interrupted by the door opening.

Tony came in, his suit pressed and preened to within an inch of its life, his cravat matching Ste's.

"Brendan's here, Ste," he said.

Ste's heart thudded like a freight train against his ribs. "Here as in…?"

"Standing up there with his son, waiting for you, yeah."

"He's actually there, like, at the altar thing, standing there waiting, in front of everyone…?" He dropped into an armchair and reached for his glass of champagne, gulped it down in one go and watched the glass tremble in his hand. There was a loud ringing in his ears and his heart was pushing up into his throat, his vision blurring at the edges and Brendan was here, at the wedding, at _their_ wedding—

"Ste," Amy said softly, kneeling in front of him and placing her hand on his leg. "Brendan's downstairs wanting to marry you now. You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?"

Brendan wanted to marry him. Wanted to marry _him_. Right now.

"Ste," Amy said again. "I know you're scared, but—"

"But why?" he said. "I wasn't like this with…"

With Doug. He felt none of this in the moments before his wedding with Doug.

"That's because this is different," Amy said, squeezing his knee. "This is everything to you. Even I can see that."

Ste stared at her.

"Come on, Ste, mate," Tony said, coming forward and tugging on Ste's arm. "Up you get, that's it. It's show time."

Amy watched Ste get to his feet, a crease between her eyebrows. "Ste, if you don't want to do this…"

"I do," Ste said with sudden conviction. "Let's go."

"Only if you're sure—"

He smiled at her. "I'm sure, Ames, I promise. I just… It just threw me, that's all. That he's actually there. That _he_ wants to do this."

"Why wouldn't he, eh?" Tony asked him, grinning. "Stop being daft and get a move on. I'll see you down there, need to get into position—" Tony loved a wedding.

"Wait, Tony, have you got me vows?"

"Right here," Tony said, showing Ste his inside pocket, and the piece of paper sticking out of it. "We're all set."

"Okay." Ste nodded and drew in a deep, calming breath. Then he clapped his hands together and said, "Right, kids, let's go and get married!"

He followed Amy and the kids out of the room, walking like he was floating on air. In less than half an hour, he'd be Mr Steven Brady-Hay. He'd be married to _Brendan_. For the rest of his life.

When Amy caught the grin on his face, she rolled her eyes and took his hand.

The doors opened for them as if by magic once they made it downstairs, and soft, melodic music started instantly, something Brendan had chosen. Amy looped her arm around his, the kids walking ahead, and together they entered the room.

The first thing he noticed, because he couldn't look straight ahead yet, was that half the village had turned out. No doubt looking for a good knees-up at the expense of Brendan Brady. The second thing he noticed, when he felt brave enough to look up, was Brendan. He had his back to Ste, facing ahead, his hands clasped in front of him. Declan stood beside him, very smart in a black suit and red cravat; he was half turned, looking at Ste, grinning. Then he leaned over and whispered something to his dad, something that made Brendan drop his head forward for a moment, as if he couldn't quite cope with whatever Declan said to him. Then his shoulders drew up and dropped, taking a deep breath, and he turned to look at Ste.

The look in his eyes made everything else melt away and all Ste could see was Brendan, and all he could feel was his heart beating for him, and he walked forward with confidence to his husband, and to his future.

::: :::

Hours later, after the vows and the rings and the kiss, after the confetti and the toasts and the first dance, the speeches, the photos, the cake cutting and the food; after the whirlwind of getting married, of getting married to Brendan, Ste took a moment to catch his breath. He stepped out onto the patio and looked up at the stars, drew the crisp, clean air into his lungs, and smiled serenely at nothing and everything.

Brendan found him minutes later, approaching silently and slipping his arms around him from behind. They said nothing to each other for a while, stood in peaceful quiet, and when Brendan tightened his arms, Ste rested his head back against his shoulder and sighed in contentment.

"So, husband of mine," Brendan murmured into his ear, making a shiver run down his spine. "Any regrets?"

"Yeah, this wine," Ste said, holding up his glass. "Who chose this? I've had better wine at Price Slice."

Brendan snorted. "You did."

"Nah, I think your Cheryl did."

"Well I did warn you against giving her wedding responsibilities. Last time she was in charge of a wedding, you married Douglas."

Ste rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, that's a great thing to bring up now, innit, today of all days."

"Shut up," Brendan mumbled, then dipped his head forward to press a kiss against the side of Ste's neck.

"You shut up," Ste retorted, tilting his head to give Brendan more room to work, to trail his lips up the curve of Ste's neck to the spot behind his ear that always made him sigh with pleasure. "Can't believe we've gone and got married."

"Can't believe I've gone forty-eight hours without sex," Brendan muttered into his skin.

"Dead romantic, you are."

"Well, when you've got it on tap like I have—"

"Oi!" Ste reached up and gave the back of Brendan's head a smack. "I am not _on tap._"

"You sure about that?" Brendan asked, snaking his hand down to cup Ste through his trousers.

Ste giggled, jerking his hips back, which only made his arse crash into Brendan's groin. "Brendan, not here, for god's sake."

"I've just married yeh, Steven. Can't blame me for wanting to make love to my husband now."

Ste raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say 'make love'?"

"Yeah, I did. Deal with it." Brendan removed his hand from Ste's crotch and turned him around. "Least you could do is kiss me."

"Won't be long before we can make our escape, you know. Go upstairs."

"Too long," Brendan murmured, leaning forward and pulling Ste in. "Kiss me, Mr Brady."

"Brady-_Hay_," Ste said, and let Brendan lick his mouth open.

:::

**AN: Next bit will be the wedding night, so the rating is going to change.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: You know how in the reviews some of you have been saying "I love this fic because it's not too mushy or romantic! It's so them!"? Yeah, well, I apologise in advance now… I couldn't help it. They'd just got married! And they're a bit drunk! They have the feels! Don't judge me. :p**

::: :::

There was still a part of Ste that thought this was a dream. If someone had told him, once upon a time, that he would one day not only be in a legitimate, _loving_ relationship with Brendan Brady, but that he would end up marrying him, he would have told that person where to go. Because this was never on the cards; this wasn't written into his destiny. He was destined to love Brendan from afar for the rest of his life, to find comfort elsewhere, a thin veneer of happiness in someone else's arms. And he'd tried that, for a while, because what other choice did he have?

Brendan was not supposed to settle down, and especially not with him.

And yet he had, and here they were, married. Nothing but their blank canvas of a future mapped out before them, a million memories in the waiting.

The reception was winding down, and Ste was starting to feel the effects of the crap wine and expensive champagne. Half the guests had left, and those who remained were either staggering around on the dance floor or slumped in seats around the edge. Ste sat, nursing the last dregs of his wine, watching Amy spin around an overtired but hyper Leah, a wobbly dance that was making Leah laugh and Amy trip over her feet every three steps or so. They were both going to topple over soon enough, Ste thought, waiting for it.

"Think I'm drunk," Cheryl said, half falling on Ste's lap and half collapsing on the seat beside him.

He shoved her onto the seat properly and laughed at her squiffy eyes and flushed cheeks. "Think you passed that point hours ago, Chez. This is what you call hammered."

"Or trollied," Cheryl said, holding up a finger. "Some people say trollied."

"Doesn't really make sense when you think about it."

"I can't think about anything right now," Cheryl said around a hiccough. "Where's our Brendan got to?"

"Somewhere over there doing the rounds—there he is, look." Brendan was at the other side of the dance floor, shaking hands with guests and no doubt saying his goodbyes. He'd been in a hurry to leave for the past two hours but Ste had told him it would be rude to leave without due gratitude to the guests, and he'd gone off with an impatient sigh to do just that. Ste watched him chatting to Myra McQueen, a tight smile on his face as she talked his ear off and hung on his arm. His other arm was busy holding up Lucas, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder some twenty minutes ago and was no doubt at this moment drooling on his shirt. It made Ste smile. His husband cradling his sleeping son, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You've made him really happy, you know," Cheryl said, looking across at Brendan and Lucas with a wistful, if slightly crooked, smile. "I've never seen him like this. He's even tolerating Carmel McQueen, look."

"He's always had a bit of a soft spot for the McQueens." He'd worked his way through half of them, at least.

"All in the past now, Ste, love," Cheryl said, as if reading his mind. It wasn't like he was jealous of them, although it did give him some degree of bitterness to think about how his current husband had slept with the same McQueen his ex-husband was now engaged to. Like, what was so special about him? Cheryl sighed beside him, oblivious to his new train of thought. "Can't believe he's married you."

"Oh thanks," Ste said. "That's well nice, that is."

She tutted and nudged him with her elbow. "I didn't mean that. I just meant—he's Brendan, you know? No one was ever allowed to get close enough to him. But you did, didn't you?" She smiled at him. "That little scamp of a kid got under his skin and here you are now, my big, bad brother wrapped around your finger, willing to do anything in the world for you."

"Oi, I wasn't a scamp," Ste said, because that was obviously the important bit of what she'd said. He was too tipsy to react to the rest without going all mushy on her shoulder.

Honestly, he was more amazed than anyone that they'd got to this point.

"Do you know what he said to me earlier?" she asked, leaning too far into his space and slurring. "Do you know what he said? He said—he said, '_I don't deserve this, Chez_.'" She shook her head, frowning. "And you know what I think?"

"What?" Ste said, his throat dry.

She pointed a finger into his face and attempted to make stern eye contact. "I think you need to promise me something."

He gave a small nod, silently asking her to continue.

"You need to promise me that for the rest of your lives together, you make him realise every single day that he does deserve this. Because Ste, Ste, look at me."

He was already looking at her.

"You have no idea how much he loves you. None."

He had some idea. But hearing Cheryl say it like that, with such drunken intensity, left him a little breathless.

"And that brother of mine," she continued, leaning back into her own seat now, "all he cares about is everyone else's happiness. Doesn't he? Yours, mine, the kids…" She grabbed his hand, squeezed it so hard he could feel her manicured nails digging into his palm. "This is his chance now, love. With you."

"Private party?" Brendan said, appearing on the other side of Ste and making him jump. He'd been so focused on Cheryl that he hadn't seen him crossing the dance floor towards them.

Ste grinned up at him. "Cheryl was just giving me the protective sister speech."

"And don't you forget it!" Cheryl said, staggering onto her feet and swaying. "I know where you live, Steven Hay."

"Brady-Hay," Brendan and Ste said together. Brendan met his eye and winked.

Cheryl hiccoughed into a giggle. "Brady-Hay. Aww," she cooed, then reached down and pinched his cheek, hard. "You're part of the family now. A Brady!"

"Get off," he said, batting her hand away and blushing.

"And you, my gorgeous brother." She lurched over to Brendan and fell against his chest, causing Brendan to tighten his arm around Lucas and pull him away from her flailing hand. "You should be the happiest man alive today."

"I am," he said, frowning at her. "Bedtime for you I think, sis."

"No listen, listen. I know it's not been easy, getting to this point, but you and Ste…" She sighed into his face, causing him to wrinkle his nose at what was no doubt an overwhelming whiff of alcohol on her breath. "You and Ste, this is—this is—"

"Yeah, it's fate, magical, a love story for all the ages." He looked over at Ste. "Go and get Nate. A McQueen. Anyone."

Ste laughed and wandered off to find the cavalry.

::: :::

Ste said a brief goodbye to Brendan, taking Lucas off his hands and telling him he'll see him upstairs. Brendan went off to help Nate get Cheryl to their room while Amy and Ste made their way to Amy's room to put the kids to bed.

Ste didn't know what time it was, but the hotel had fallen somewhat quiet now that the DJ had switched off and most people had gone home or up to bed in their complimentary rooms provided for by Brendan (McQueens, Savages and students excluded). Moonlight made illuminated patterns on the walls from every window Ste and Amy passed along the corridor, and they entered the room to find someone had already turned down the beds.

Ste stayed a few minutes, helping Amy get the kids changed into their pyjamas and tucked into bed. She gave him a kiss on the cheek after, saying very little, smiling when he brushed her hair off her face. He thanked her, not just for today but for everything, and she sent him on his way, laughing at his drunken rambling.

He took his time walking to his room, feeling inexplicably nervous and overwhelmingly excited in equal measure. Before opening the door, he drew a deep breath and took a moment to remember this day, the day he married the love of his life, the most perfect day.

The room was softly lit, none of the candles or rose petals he half expected to find courtesy of Cheryl. But there was Brendan. He was sat on the bed, his back against the headboard and pillows, long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. He'd removed his shoes, jacket and cravat, and he lounged on the bed now in just his tux trousers and open-collared white shirt rolled up at the sleeve. There was a champagne glass in his hand, another on the side table for Ste, and he smiled at Ste as he closed the door behind himself, shutting out the world.

"Hiya," he said softly, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over a chair, a quiet surge of love and desire clashing within him.

"Evenin'," Brendan drawled, sipping his drink.

Ste toed off his shoes and removed his cravat, unhooked his top shirt button and rolled his shoulders and neck, loosened his muscles. His legs were aching slightly from all the dancing, his throat dry from all the talking over the music, and he walked over to the bed to take a grateful sip of champagne from the glass Brendan had left for him on the side table.

Brendan watched him, the soft lighting making his eyes glow, and Ste's face heated under the attention, more so when Brendan raised a hand and skimmed it over Ste's hip, tugging a little.

"Come and make yourself comfortable," Brendan said. Ste smiled at him and, glass still in hand, climbed onto the bed and straddled Brendan's thighs, shuffled close enough for his lower belly to press tightly against Brendan's. In this position they were of equal height and he stared into Brendan's eyes, a few inches away from his own, and arched his back a little when Brendan rested his free hand just to the left of his spine.

Ste hooked his own free arm around Brendan's neck, drawing them closer together. He kept his voice low when he spoke. "So here you are, married again."

"Second time lucky," Brendan said.

"I'll drink to that," Ste said, and they clinked glasses before taking a sip each. "This should have been my first wedding, though. My _only_ wedding."

"Everything happens for a reason, Steven." Brendan took the opportunity to untuck Ste's shirt from the back of his trousers and slip his hand beneath the material, pressed against the flushed skin of Ste's back, making him shiver. "You thought you were doing the right thing at the time."

Ste snorted. "You shoulda stopped me," he muttered into his glass.

"It's not like I didn't try."

"What?" Ste spluttered, nearly choking on his drink. "No you never!"

Brendan nodded. "It's why I came back to the village."

"To stop my wedding?"

"No," Brendan said, trailing his fingers up Ste's spine. "To let you know you had other options."

"To tell me you were madly in love with me, basically."

Brendan huffed a laugh, went a faint shade of red high on his cheeks. "Basically."

Ste stared at him for a moment, then he huffed a laugh of his own, only his was mirthless. "Can't believe I stood there and married someone else while you—"

"Stop it," Brendan murmured, meeting Ste's eye again. "None of it matters now. This," he said, whispering now, pushing against Ste's back until he leaned forward enough to press their foreheads together, "is all that matters."

Ste closed his eyes, breathed in Brendan's air, his stomach performing a slow, lazy somersault and his skin prickling with heat. "You're my husband," he breathed.

He could feel Brendan's smile. "Yeah I am."

"I love you," Ste said, and when Brendan went to respond, he added, "No, I mean I _really_ love you." He felt drunk on it, intoxicated. "If you feel half as much as I feel right now, then—"

"More," Brendan said, and kissed him. Just a brief, clinging press of lips. "Never doubt how much I love you, Steven, okay? I know I'm not very good at saying it, but I'm telling you now—"

"I know," Ste whispered, pushing his fingers into Brendan's hair at the back of his head, holding on. "I know. I can feel it."

"Then you won't mind if I show you," Brendan said, and the next thing Ste knew, his champagne glass was being removed from his hand and placed back on the table, and Brendan was looping his arm tight around his back and lowering him backwards down onto the bed.

"I'm going to make love to you now, Steven," Brendan continued, his own glass still in his hand as he got onto his knees between Ste's spread thighs. "Just like a good husband should. And after, when you've caught your breath"—he leaned over Ste, brought his mouth down to Ste's ear—"I'm going to _ruin_ you."

"What if I don't want to be ruined?" Ste asked, short of breath.

Brendan straightened up on his knees, the long line of his body towering over Ste as he raised his glass to his lips. "You'll want it," he said before taking a sip of the champagne.

He was on Ste in an instant, pressing their mouths together; as Ste parted his lips, the champagne trickled into his own mouth, fizzed over his tongue before Brendan's tongue followed it, sweeping into Ste's mouth and licking up the champagne, sharing it, sweet and bitter and wet, the soft glide of tongue against tongue as Ste moaned, quietly, deep in his chest.

"Tastes good," he whispered against Brendan's mouth when the kiss broke.

Brendan straightened up again, gazed down at Ste with dark eyes full of intent. His trousers were already tented, his neck flushed through with heat. "Open your shirt for me," he instructed, tugging the front of it out from Ste's trousers.

With unsteady hands, Ste did as he was told. Popped each button from the top to the bottom, Brendan watching, his pupils blown. Ste licked his lips as he opened the last button and then removed his hands from himself, rested them by his sides, waiting for whatever came next.

Brendan, with deliberate, slow movements, peeled one side of the shirt off Ste's body, then the other, until it lay open and exposing, Ste's torso on display for Brendan's dark gaze.

Ste realised what was going to happen in the instant before Brendan did it—sucked in a breath of anticipation and watched, as if in slow motion, as Brendan tilted the glass over Ste's body and tipped a trickle of champagne onto his chest. Ste gasped as it hit, shivered when the droplets slid left and right and down, over his nipples, his ribs, down his abs; fisted his hands in the sheets beneath him as Brendan dipped down and slurped up the liquid, caught the trailing champagne against his lips and ran the flat of his tongue across Ste's skin, the edge of his teeth over Ste's nipples. Brendan's breath was hot against his skin, his moustache creating soft friction wherever he went, his lips gentle and tongue wet as he moved up and sucked at Ste's collarbone, dipped his tongue into the hollow of his throat and up, over his Adam's apple, jaw and into his mouth. Worshiping him, not yet touching, pressing his desire into Ste's mouth with each sweep of his tongue, pulling Ste's bottom lip between his own as he lowered his torso, the hardness of his shirt buttons brushing over Ste's feverish skin.

"Brendan," Ste whispered when Brendan broke the kiss, then let out a muted sound of panic as Brendan rose up and away, back up onto his knees over Ste. He downed the rest of the champagne and let the glass drop to the carpet with a soft thud, stared down at Ste for a moment before he climbed off the bed and stood there, letting Ste watch, as he got undressed.

"Take a good look now, Steven, while you still can," he drawled, shrugging off his shirt and going for his belt. "Now that we're married, I can let myself go."

Ste let out a breathless laugh, his attention caught on each bit of skin Brendan was revealing, the dark patch of hair as he unbuttoned his trousers. "You better not."

"You saying you won't love me when I'm old and fat?"

"I'll still love ya." Brendan lowered his trousers, taking his boxers with them, and Ste stared through lust-hazy eyes at Brendan's hard dick, as if he'd never seen it before, never seen anything so beautiful. "Not sure about fancying you though."

"Is that so?" Brendan asked, naked now but for his socks, which he bent down to remove. "You know they say sex is the best form of exercise."

"If that's true, then you won't have chance to get fat with me around."

Brendan, socks now gone, stood straight, arms by his sides, and let Ste stare for a moment, proud and confident in how he looked. "That sounds like a promise." He stepped forward and reached for Ste, took his hand, the one with the wedding ring, and pulled him up. "Clothes off," he said, and got his hand in Ste's hair, pulled his head back fast enough to make Ste's breath hitch, and swooped in, latched his teeth onto the skin of Ste's neck and sucked, other hand palming him through his trousers and squeezing, stroking languidly, groaning against his neck when Ste's hips jerked and his dick throbbed in Brendan's hand. Moved down to Ste's balls and pressed against them, hard, curling his palm around them and rubbing the heel of his hand onto the base of Ste's dick, right up against the vein.

"Brendan," Ste panted into his ear, rolling his hips into Brendan's hand, desperate for some friction. But Brendan wouldn't allow him—broke away and stepped back, gestured for Ste to stand up and immediately started tugging on his clothes until, all of a sudden, Ste stood there naked and trembling, so aroused he ached.

Brendan pulled him in for a kiss and then rested their foreheads together. "I'm gonna lay on that bed now," he murmured, smoothing his hand over Ste's arse cheek and dipping in, one finger, ghosting over his hole, "and you're gonna sit on my face."

Ste hitched a breath and pressed closer on instinct, his dick making contact with Brendan's, silky-soft glide of hard skin against skin. Brendan rewarded him by pressing his finger in harder against his hole, circled the muscle and pushed, not entering him but stimulating the nerves, rubbing the tip of his finger back and forth against it until Ste had to kiss him or else start moaning, tilting his arse up and out in an attempt to get Brendan inside, to push that finger right in where he needed him.

"You want my tongue in there?" Brendan murmured against his mouth, hips rocking forward, other hand grabbing Ste's arse cheek and pulling on it to expose his hole to the warm air, to Brendan's finger, and then a second finger, rubbing harsh and hot over the muscle. "Want me to get you all slick and open for my dick?"

"Yeah," Ste panted, desperate, nodding. "Yeah. Please."

Brendan gave him a bruising kiss and then pulled away. "On the bed," he said and slipped onto the bed himself, shoved the pillows out of the way and lay flat on his back. "Up here."

Ste couldn't move fast enough. Straddled Brendan and crawled up his body, got his hands on the headboard and pulled himself up until Brendan stopped him, hands on his hips, and sucked Ste's balls into his mouth, slurping and obscene. He worked his tongue over them for a moment or two, Ste panting above him and looking down, mesmerised, into Brendan's eyes, before he gave Ste's arse a shove to push him farther up the bed, tilted his own head back for a better angle, and pulled Ste down onto his face.

Ste spread his own cheeks and lowered down, thighs trembling, until he felt Brendan's moustache against his skin before his tongue, wet and hot, slurped across his hole. He let out a moan immediately, leaning back to give Brendan a better angle to work with, rocked down onto Brendan's face and spread his cheeks wider, smothering Brendan's mouth and tongue with his hole, desperate for it.

Brendan took it, gave it, groaned against the muscle when Ste started rocking, grinding, sucking Brendan's tongue deeper into himself, panting from somewhere deep in his chest when Brendan pulled his tongue out to lick around and over his hole, harsh and quick, burying his face as far into Ste's arse as he could, pulling down on Ste's hips to let him know it was okay, he could push down harder, he could take it. Ste's rocking became a sort of bouncing motion, fucking himself on Brendan's tongue, his entire body flooding with pleasure, his skin breaking out in a sweat, pulling his arse open wider, leaning back as far as balance would allow so that Brendan could get his tongue in deeper, deeper than it had ever been before.

Ste was going to come. His dick was too hard, leaking too much, standing upright against his tummy, flared red and angry and he moaned, high-pitched, as Brendan slurped around his hole and back in, turning him into a sloppy mess; he was desperate to reach down and take his own dick in his hand but more desperate to keep his arse spread wide over Brendan's face, his head wrecked with the different sensations, the need to come, to rock down harder on Brendan's mouth, to crawl out of his lust-fevered skin.

When he thought he couldn't take anymore, when the room started closing in on him and he got too hot to cope with the intense pleasure, Brendan tore his face away and pushed on Ste's arse until he fell forward, bracing himself against the headboard, forehead dropping onto his own forearms. "Fuck my mouth," Brendan groaned in the instant before he took Ste's dick in his hand and guided it to his mouth, swallowed him whole.

It wasn't the best angle but it worked and Ste, on Brendan's encouragement, thrust his hips forward until he could feel Brendan swallowing around the head—kept himself there for a few seconds and pulled back out, his chest screaming for breath, his toes curling and heat coiling low in his belly and skin flushed through with sweat, orgasm building, building, working its way through his veins. He fucked Brendan's mouth, worked his dick in and out, over Brendan's tongue and down his throat, Brendan's fingers digging into his arse cheeks, spurring him on, muffled groaning around the hard skin of Ste's dick—and all that heat and intense pleasure collided in the middle and Ste exploded, crying out, fucking deep into Brendan's throat and coming and coming and it wasn't stopping, making Ste pull out and work his own dick, milking it for the last spurts of spunk, shooting over Brendan's face and throat.

He collapsed to the side instantly, thighs no longer able to support his weight, planted face-first into the sheets and sucked in harsh breaths, eyes squeezed shut, unable to come down from his high. He felt Brendan rubbing his back, heard him murmur something, and he must have swam out of consciousness for a minute because the next thing he knew Brendan was climbing back onto the bed and turning him over, settling between his legs, face clean and smiling.

"Where'd you go?" Ste whispered, lifting a hand to trail a finger over Brendan's damp brow.

"Just went to clean up a bit." His eyes were soft, looking at Ste as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, and when he spoke, he did so with a powerful sort of reverence that made Ste's toes curl again. "You were amazing."

Ste let out an exhausted, quiet laugh. "You were the one who did all the work." He smiled, stroked Brendan's cheek. "Sorry I passed out on you."

"I'm just that good," Brendan drawled, and when Ste rolled his eyes playfully, he leant down to kiss him.

It was a slow kiss, softer, Brendan taking care as if every brush of his tongue and lips mattered. Like Ste was precious.

Brendan's dick was hard against Ste's hip and he felt a pang of guilt, reached for it and brushed his palm along the underside. Brendan let Ste play with him, gently stroking, while he pushed up and grabbed the lube he'd put on the bed beside them at some point—no doubt while Ste had been passed out. He squeezed some onto his fingers and Ste sped up his movements on Brendan's dick, instinctively wanting to pleasure him, but Brendan stopped him with his spare hand and shook his head. "I won't last," he admitted, and the tightness in his voice demonstrated that.

"'Kay, sorry," Ste whispered, removing his hand and resting it beside his head, waiting, attempting to keep his breathing steady. He didn't know how, but his dick was already hardening again, rising up against his belly.

Brendan prepared him quickly; Ste's hole was already open and slick from the assault of Brendan's tongue, so two fingers went in without resistance and Brendan kissed him through any discomfort, swallowing Ste's gasp as he brushed over his prostate.

"I'm ready," Ste said after just a minute, hips starting to rock against Brendan's fingers. Brendan didn't question him, removed his fingers and dried them on the sheet beside Ste's hip.

A condom appeared in Brendan's hand from nowhere and he brought it to his mouth, ready to rip open the wrapper with his teeth, but in a fit of desperate need for something Ste didn't even know he wanted until that moment, he reached up and pulled Brendan's hand away, stopped him from opening it. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "Please."

Brendan stared at him, expression caught in a moment of surprise and desire. "Steven—"

"Please," Ste whispered again. He licked his dry lips, his breathing shallow, put his hand to Brendan's cheek and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. "Brendan."

Brendan turned his face into Ste's hand, pressed his mouth to his palm, closed his eyes and drew in a breath through his nose. "I've never…with any man."

"Me neither." He watched Brendan open his eyes and look at him, study his face. "It's just you and me now."

Brendan searched his eyes, tightened his hand around the condom, his eyebrows drawn, undecided. Then he turned his head to kiss Ste's palm again and nodded, dropped the condom onto the floor. Ste heard it make contact with the glass already down there.

Ste let out a gasp as Brendan came down on him again, wrapped him tight in his arms and kissed the life out of him, deep and hot and frantic, desperate. Then Ste watched with hooded eyes as Brendan rose up onto his knees and leaned back on his haunches, reached for the lube and popped it open. They held each other's gaze as Brendan poured some lube onto his hand and threw the tube aside, his chest shuddering with each jagged breath, hand unsteady as he gripped his own dick and slicked it up, root to tip, working it until precome leaked from the slit and beaded, tempting Ste to lick it away. But Ste didn't want to move, didn't want to look away from Brendan's eyes and his dick and the flush of lust covering his skin, the sweat glistening over the cut of his abs, the tops of his thighs. He was beautiful, all sweat and hair and defined muscle, breathing laboured with desire and lips parted, jaw slack, eyelids at half-mast as he worked his cock, soaked it with lube, ready to take Ste without any barrier.

When he was ready, when his hand started to shake around his dick, Brendan leaned forward and braced himself on one arm, lining up his dick and pausing, looking into Ste's eyes, before pushing home in one smooth thrust. Once he was seated all the way inside, he stopped and hung his head between his shoulders, frozen in place.

"How does it feel?" Ste asked on a whisper, feeling the walls of his arse clench around Brendan's dick. Brendan shook his head, said nothing, as if he couldn't put it into words, couldn't speak, couldn't explain how it felt to be so connected, skin to skin, nothing between them. "Brendan."

Brendan kissed him suddenly, pressed down onto Ste's body and wrapped an arm right around him, holding them as close as it was possible to be. His hips started moving, gentle thrusts, all the way out to the tip and then back in, deep, as far as he could go. Kissing Ste through it, breathing into each other's mouths, jaws slack and eyes half closed and then Brendan burying his face into Ste's neck and breathing, "I love you," into his skin.

Ste answered by pulling Brendan tighter against him, wrapping his legs around Brendan's hips, rocking his arse up to meet every one of Brendan's thrusts, overwhelmed by how good this felt, how it was possible to feel this close to another man.

When Ste came again, he did so with Brendan pulsing deep inside him, the warmth of Brendan's wedding ring pressing into his shoulder as he gripped him tight and whispered his name into his ear.

**AN: Aaaaaannndd… I think that's it! There's not really anything else I can do with this one as there's no plot. It was only meant to be a proposal one-shot lol. Ended up writing the wedding as well, but I can't just keep going on with plotless fluff or it'll get boring really quickly. All stories need conflict. :) So thank you for reading, and an extra big thank you for all the reviews! If anyone's got any requests for other one-shots, do let me know. Cheers!**


End file.
